Page 42 of Feral Guardian
“I don’t care about anything you’re doing. I care about your safety,” he says matter-of-factly. “Not. Too. Far.”
“Fine! No privacy for the princess!” I stalk toward the rocks, plucking leaves as I go.
The pine and dirt scent of the forest is refreshing, helping to lessen the pain in my skull. Gods, why did I think I could drink that entire tankard and survive?
“Because you’re stupid, Lily,” I mutter to myself as I navigate the rocks.
There’s a small cluster of stones caged in by two boulders, with a tall, thick bush at the rear, making a perfect little alcove for my business. I look around as if someone might be watching. There’s a crow above me cawing like a laugh, and unseen birds higher in the canopy singing morning songs.
The sun trickles through the branches, glistening against the frost that grew on the trees overnight. It reminds me that Alastair’s warming charm is on my thumb, and he’s suffering in the cold.
I pull down my pants and lean against the rock, ensuring my feet are well and good away from the splash zone. I close my eyes and groan softly at the sweet relief. My head falls back and I let myself relax for a moment.
My thighs are sore from riding all night. My head constantly throbs from the hangover, one of three I’ve ever had in my life. My right hand hurts, but I’m not sure why, like maybe it was curled into a fist for too long.
A gentlethump, thump, thumpof footfalls pulls my attention from my body. I dab myself with the leaves to remove anything that lingers and then yank up my pants.
“Alastair, you couldn’t wait ten more seconds?” I ask incredulously as I walk toward the opening.
But it’s not Alastair standing on the other side of the boulder. It’s a massive brown beast with claws as thick as my fingers and eyes that glow a malevolent, magical yellow. It’s taller than me, even on all fours. Its thick, brown fur is streaked through with silver and shimmers with gold magic. Sharp, black horns that could gore me in an instant protrude from either side of its head.
I suck in a gasp and step back into the alcove. The demon bear sniffs hard, its dark nose wiggling back and forth as it scents me. It utters a low grumble and advances, curling back its lip to show off teeth that could easily chomp me in half.
“Alastair!” I call, the trepidation making my voice shake.
“I thought you wanted privacy,” he says with a sarcastic lilt.
“Monster!” I shriek.
The beast lurches forward into the alcove and I stumble onto the rocks. I crawl over the stones, putting anything I can between me and the creature’s massive maw.
Weapon. I need a weapon. Long weapon. Something to keep me at a distance.
I tear my gaze away from the beast for a fleeting second to scan my surroundings. I’m dangerously close to being boxed in by the massive thorny bush at my back. The rocks on either side of mearen’t going to offer a handhold to get me out of here. The creature pads forward angrily, claws digging into the earth and churning the dirt.
An axe sails into the alcove, lodging into the beast’s hindquarter. It howls and turns about, slamming into the boulder on the right as it blocks my only safe escape. Alastair’s axe clatters to the ground as it’s ejected from the demon bear’s side. Yellow magic threads over the creature’s wound and the blood flow stops. It can heal itself like a high-blood magus.
I curse.
Alastair roars at the beast, but I can barely see him beyond the thing’s thick fur. He stands with a laundry paddle in hand and a red glow in his eyes. His breath smokes around his face as he bellows again, striking his chest to provoke the beast.
The bear takes a lurching step forward, head pointed down as if it might gore Alastair. He leaps aside and bats the creature with the laundry paddle, shattering the wood and sending shards into the monster’s eye.
The beast roars anew, turning with more agility than I could’ve imagined, and slams Alastair in the gut. Alastair flies from his feet and lands out of sight, obscured by the boulders. The monster looks at me again, its eyes gleaming with hunger as the wooden shard is ejected and the damage is healed.
“Shit!”
There’s not enough space for me to escape the alcove, and my hunt for a weapon starts again. There are a few smaller sticks and some rocks, but nothing I can quickly fashion into a distance-giving tool.
My mouth is cold and dry from my rapid breathing. Panic threatens to overtake my reason, but I mustn’t let it. My hands shake as I move toward the thick briar patch, seeking a way through.
I press my magic into the bush and order it to reshape to my will, creating just a small enough hole to traverse. I drop to my hands and knees and scramble through the dirt. The briars shake as the beast rips at them behind me. I feel the whoosh of its claws at my heels and a whimpering cry slips through my lips.
The briars just keep going, and my magic is getting less and less elegant. Thorns scrape along my back and shoulders, ripping my clothes and sparking distant pain in my mind. That pain drives me faster as I dig my hands into the earth and move.
Light spears through the leaves ahead and I push forward with renewed vigor. New, deeper pain rakes down my calf and I’m yanked backwards. I scream and pull on my leg despite the fire crawling across my muscles.
The creature’s claws come free as the monster is pulled backward, too. Another roar sounds behind us. This is one I know, one that had haunted me in the attack against our caravan. But I know not to fear it now.
